It was on a hot summer day, during a heat
wave. I was relaxing on the couch watching T.V. when I saw the swishy tailed
mass of lazy fur I call my dog, Barney. He thumped down in his favorite spot on
the couch (with clumps of loose hair flying everywhere) and just laid there for
about 15 min. Then he went outside. It seemed like a normal day.
He
came in from the backyard limping and stumbled to the ground. My sister and I
rushed to his side. He was twitching and his mouth was clenched shut. We called
my mom at work and she told us to keep him cool and to stay by his side. My
sister and I both dashed around the house to get what we needed; a fan, a water
spritzer and all the hope we could scrape up to see if he would recover.
* * *
It took a few minutes for my Mom to get home, but it
felt like an eternity. All attention was
on Barney when she got home. We were waiting and waiting and waiting! (It was only like 13 min.)
Finally he stopped twitching, unclenched his jaw, got up and walked away. He
trotted to the living room and plopped down in his favorite spot, and that was
that. That experience was scarier than the feeling of going on a roller coaster.
You get to the top and wait for the moment to fall off the track but you don’t,
you have a great time. For me I thought Barney was going to die, but he shook
it off. That day I vowed to always keep an eye on that lazy mass of fluff.
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